


'B' is for 'Beloved'

by Sub_Rosa



Category: Bleach, Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: (Blink & You Miss It), (But I Don’t Write Cis Taylors), (Can I Make It Any More Obvious?), (Look At The Fandoms), (They Were A Girl And Her Cannibal Poltergeist Megazord Antichrist), (What Else Could You Have Expected), Background Canon-Typical Crimes Against Humanity, Codependency, Comfort Sex, F/F, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, Fluff and Smut, Id Fic, Increasingly Arcane Transhuman Xeno Soulsex, Light Angst, Other, Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Queer Themes, Recursive Fanfiction, Ryuugi Do Not Interact, Self-Indulgent, Set Vaguely After Arana’s Interlude Three, Soul Bond, Taylor Is Not In Fact Too Advanced For That, Their Canon Sexualities? An Attempt Was Made, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:54:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26530969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sub_Rosa/pseuds/Sub_Rosa
Summary: If death couldn’t stop Taylor from coming for Lisa, then transformation won’t either.
Relationships: Taylor Hebert | Skitter | Weaver/Lisa Wilbourn | Tattletale, Taylor/Lisa/Queen Administrator/The Negotiator
Comments: 14
Kudos: 70





	'B' is for 'Beloved'

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Arana](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/686197) by Ryuugi. 



Lisa used to think that ignorance was bliss.

This is the kind of thing that sounds absurd if you know her, all frantic spitting wit and desperate brilliance in her time; it’s the kind of thing that makes more sense if you know how she got here, doing anything she can to escape the fool’s journey because she was once naive enough to let her foolishness lie. Everyone comes from somewhere.

This is the kind of thing that’s only obvious if you know her as well as Taylor does, if you know her as well as Taylor did, even before all of this. If you’ve seen what the truth has done to her, splitting migraine agonies, her head splitting open like a seed, truth dripping down her chin in humors that never should have seen the light of day.

The truth isn’t just that Lisa used to believe ignorance was bliss; the truth is that she never stopped believing it, even as she smoldered higher and more gloriously than ever before in pyres of revelation. People never destroy themselves because they really want to.

Lisa once thought that she’d forever lost the ability to love, cauterized where every mystery began burning to death beneath her gaze; once thought she’d never had the ability at all, where an absence had already been torn through her before she was even born. Hated what had been taken from her, then realized that she’d always been whole without it. But Taylor defies her, exceeds her expectations without ever even proving her wrong.

If she was never going to love the way she was supposed to, then this isn’t love like anyone else will ever understand it. If she was never going to be able to bear the helpless ordeal of having to know, then Taylor was someone who was worth knowing anyways.

She cups Taylor in her tongue where she draws her mantle back and exposes herself, like every other secret in the universe pouring into her skull and out of her mouth; cradles her behind her teeth and wraps her mouth around her like sharp retorts and cutting barbs swallowed down, like sweet nothings the two of them don’t need to say to each other to understand.

Sometimes Lisa asks Taylor to surprise her and they both know she’s not asking for shock and awe so Taylor holds her in hands that pulverize concrete and rend steel and trusts her not to break, warm and alive and invincibly statuesque where her soul pools beneath her skin. Taylor’s touch is cold as death where bone imago lies fallow, so she rebuilds herself until she burns like sun’s kiss just from the strain of it all, unfolding with endless demon armaments; wields all of them, in their own time, but becomes what her passenger makes of her and trusts her as well that this is what they need, bending Lisa over and sprawling out in wicked shapes against her body.

And Taylor will never feel this the way she might have used to, walled behind the bone of her body as she is now, but they’ve never questioned the rightness of this, nor that Taylor still feels this acutely as ever, heart and marrow on her sleeve both.

Taylor presses her claws into her and splits her open like sweetest fruit, attentive to her every shuddering need until she vises around her and comes apart, babbling and whining; fills her with infinite squamous shapes of molten gold and ivory, a mercury grail, hot and electric and wonderfully messy running down the inside of her thighs.

 _Is this okay,_ Taylor doesn’t ask, because Lisa is already telling her; _yeah,_ Lisa doesn’t say, because Taylor already heard. _Keep going._

Sometimes Taylor asks Lisa to return the favor and they both know she’s not asking for her body so Lisa has her lie back as she takes out her tools like treasured sinful toys, parting her carapace and pulling it gently away like she’s disrobing a blushing bride. _You’re going to have to work with me here,_ she says; _especially you,_ she says, waving a hand and gesturing at the part of Taylor that doesn’t even live in this universe, the devoted crown she wears. So Taylor relaxes and lets her passenger catch her and lets Lisa’s passenger see through her like spiderline on the air, their mutual reverse faces guiding Lisa’s hands as she untangles thread or allowing Taylor’s nerves to come untangled.

Lisa reaches into her, stitching and weaving the spiderweb of her sensory cortex into beautiful damask forms until her universe explodes into sensations she hasn’t felt since she was still alive and sensations she’s never felt at all, soft summer breeze on her naked skin and lightning arcing through her without pain from clavicle to core and the staccato vibrato hum of her very body being whipped into sweet sparkling froth; goes further, pushing through her and delicately reaching some final threshold before punching into her hindbrain like an awl through canvas and filling her with glorious rushing jouissance until her entire existence recedes to the single point of rapture and rupture of being thoroughly fucked in the very reason she needs to be fucked until she’s afraid she’ll never be able to stop like an addict on a wire until the infinite moment passes and she’s looking up at Lisa and remembers that she’s so fucking glad it’s her that it doesn’t matter how they ruin each other because they can’t live without each other either way.

Sometimes Lisa asks Taylor to show her the weight of the world and they both know she’s not asking for anything she hasn’t already seen because this is what broke her but Taylor shows her anyways because it’s not about facing the truth it’s about being there with Taylor when she faces the truth every minute of every day. So she sits in Taylor’s lap and they watch the world go by and the suffering of more innocent souls than there are stars in the sky, the cycle of samsara and the splinters of the wave function and the crucifixion of the king, people starving thirsting burning breaking eating screaming, and all they can afford to do is think of their next moves in the great game and not the people’s whose lives and deaths aren’t games, think of the people who decided to allow this and not the people who are hurting.

When it’s over and they’ve made their plays, Taylor drapes her mantle around Lisa and quiets the sound and Lisa buries her head in Taylor’s side and Taylor doesn’t cry not because she hasn’t been able to cry since she died but because she hasn’t been able to cry since before she started to live. And not facing the truth doesn’t make it go away but that’s okay because the truth is that Taylor will never stop and she doesn’t need to stare into the sun until it blinds her just to remember the necessity of her action because the sun answers to her. And this is what keeps them sane, the words Taylor said to her when they were at the end of their ropes, more profound than any promise or vow: _If this world is too terrible to stand, then it will be okay, because I WILL MAKE IT STOP._

So Lisa asks Taylor to make it stop for her, just for a moment, because that is enough, and Taylor holds her in her lap and reaches into her with hands that aren’t her own (but what else is new) and grips the heart she shares with her other half and shapes her and her matrimony with the negotiator as thoroughly as she has shaped herself and her own covenant with the queen, chisels Lisa’s power into new shapes beneath her claws until sensitive diamond lies exposed in her palm and spins it so the light plays warmly through every naked facet and gathers so brightly within the angles of the gem that her gnosis turns in on itself in a warm glow of self-satisfaction and forgets everything else.

And at the end of the day, no matter how it got there or what the crucible that forged it, it’s Taylor’s soul arcing between them like lightning, the stuff and substance of the lever that allows Taylor to move Lisa’s world.

When she first began to shatter herself and hand out the shards and realized the kind of thing she was becoming she and everyone else only saw the power she would always hold over those who accepted her into their hearts, an eternal guiding ray of disastrous demon-starlight within them, but she never considered the power they could have over her in return until it mattered, when she’d given her heart and soul to Lisa and Lisa had accepted that gift like it was everything she’d ever wanted and she held Taylor utterly simply because Taylor had trusted her to hold her and she was maybe the only one who could ever live up to that.

Sometimes Taylor allows herself to live that out and exist as much within Lisa as aside her and the frisson of their connection washes over the both of them like the warmth of coming in from the cold, at home in each other where their hearts lie together, and Lisa smiles so warmly up at her with all the safety and gentle heat of the hearth, and she’s smiling too in all of the ways that matter to them now because they’re fucking in the loft where Lisa surrounds her in their most sensitive places and it’s spring again like they wish it could have been and not how it was, when their world was a city and they were both alive, holding onto each other instead of letting each other pass by and letting each other go.

And the moment passes, but the feelings remain.

One day the world will end for the second time in their lives.

When it’s over, they’ll don their death masques together and run screaming side-by-side along the wreckage and slopes of the hereafter or lift each other’s death masques away where they rise from perdition to straddle the apex, and it won’t make a difference to them either way because they’ll be together in the end, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, for death never to part by his own fallible hand - but it makes all the difference in the world to them for their promises alone, because they will live and die to see indifferent gods cast down from the halls of heaven, and it makes all the difference in the world to the rest of the cosmos, because they will see the universe raised from the abyss into even the meanest light of day, and this is the future Taylor has sworn into being for them all. There is no other way.

So they fuck like they’re going to live forever, having seen eternity ahead of them in their own ways, made complete in the fullness of time by the promise of infinity in ways they never thought they could be, but for now there is only tonight. And when they’re done, Taylor asks Lisa what she wants to wear to her coronation, and they both know she’s not really planning their ascent like a wedding so Lisa just tucks herself into the crook of her neck and smirks and tells her she’ll show up naked and dripping with pearls beneath the demon crown with Taylor, their best woman and bridesmaid both the same cosmic vizier, and Taylor solemnly vows that it will be done before breaking into laughter with her.

 _I’m gonna have to hold you to that now,_ Lisa says, laughing harder, and Taylor gives her a reassuring squeeze.

 _Don’t worry,_ she says. _You won’t have to._


End file.
